


Coffee Shop

by Winters_Sister



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Both characters are a bit shy, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Chapter 2 is from Bucky's POV, English Female Character, F/M, Fluff, Modern Era, POV Original Female Character, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, for different reasons, other marvel characters mentioned in passing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-21 22:10:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6059893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winters_Sister/pseuds/Winters_Sister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lonely British girl, newly moved to the States for work, makes her regular morning visit to the neighbourhood coffee shop, where she finds a guy as out of place there as she is, but for entirely different reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The spelling and use of language is in line with British use of English, as I am English, however I try to make anything an American character says sound authentic. I have my lovely American editor to thank for all the help, not just for corrections to my grammar and punctuation, but also the dialogue. She really does have the patience of a saint, and I thank her for all her help.

I can't keep my eyes off of him. I mean does he have any idea how gorgeous he is? He's bound to notice me staring at him. But it's hard not to. He lives up to the old cliché: tall, dark and handsome. Then there are those incredible blue eyes.

_You're still staring. Pull yourself together for goodness sake! You don't want to get caught staring, that'd be really embarrassing!_

But he's so handsome. OK I’ll admit I have a thing about men with long hair, it’ll always get my attention. But the hair has to be well kept, clean and neat, not dirty or straggly, He has the most lovely thick dark hair. It sits just on his shoulders and looks so soft and shiny. I love the way it flicks round when he turns his head and takes a moment to settle back into place. I so want to run my fingers through it.

Oh gods! He's seen me looking at him, he's looking right at me. I can feel a nervous smile spreading over my face. He fixes me with a stare from those incredible grey-blue eyes, before his expression softens and a slight trace of a smile teases his dark pink lips. _Look away you fool before you start blushing!_ I look down and pick up my coffee, taking a sip.

I've seen him in here quite a number of times. First time I saw him, I stood behind him in the queue. I was half asleep and I must admit I thought I was dreaming, he's easily the best looking guy I've seen in a long time. He towers over me, he must be at least 6 foot tall and strongly built.

On that first morning it looked like he'd come from the gym, as he was dressed in black sweatpants and a hoody with his hair tied back in a ponytail. From watching him, I got the idea that he's ex-military, as he has the air of a soldier about him. I noticed he kept his left hand in his pocket, I wondered if he'd been injured somehow. Perhaps he lost the use of that arm?

Since that first chance encounter I've seen him in the coffee shop fairly regularly. I've never spoken to him, I just daren’t, I get so nervous. He seems friendly enough though. He usually gets a his coffee to go, except when it's quiet, in which case he'll order cake or a pastry along with a coffee and sit in a comfy seat near the door and spend a while there.

None of these observations alter the fact that I've just made eye contact with him and I'm doing my level best not to blush. He’s been served and has come over to sit at the table opposite me. I risk looking up again and he's looking down, but he's still smiling slightly. Today his hair is loose and he absent-mindedly runs his fingers through it.

He's wearing a long-sleeve red top with a button up neck that clings to his muscular chest, accentuating his broad shoulders and biceps, revealing that he definitely works out. Plus a pair of deep blue jeans that hug his legs showing he definitely does not skip leg day.

Seems my assessment that he'd lost use of his left arm was incorrect as he used it to pick up his coffee. But he does have an artificial hand, made to look like metal robot hand. I know that artificial limbs are improving all the time and people have all kinds of designs on them. Never seen one like his though. The rest of his arm is hidden, but it seems to be the same as his right one, with the exception of this incredible prosthetic hand sticking out of his sleeve.

I'm staring again and he’s definitely noticed. I can feel my face burning. I must be as red as a tomato by now. He smiles shyly. He glances at his left hand and back up at me and looks down, chewing the inside of his cheek nervously.

 _Great! Well done you, you've made the poor guy feel uncomfortable. You're such an idiot!_ I look down, at the cake in front of me staring at it. Maybe if I sit here long enough he'll finish his coffee and go. Maybe if I sit here long enough the Earth will swallow me up. I continue staring down, I daren’t look up.

I hear a noise from opposite me. He's moving, surely he can't have finished so quickly, he's only just sat down.

I look up again and he's standing right there in front of me. He looks a little nervous, his left hand is tucked in his front pocket of his jeans.

“Pardon me, I don't wanna seem too forward, but would ya mind if I join you?,”  he indicates the seat next to me with his other hand, “If ya don't mind some company, that is.” He pushes his hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear, smiling as he does so.

I'm smiling like an idiot, but I can't say anything. Eventually I nod, temporarily rendered speechless, (well I hope it's temporary!).

He steps away to pick up his coffee and cake, then returns, placing them on the table and pulls up a chair, resting his left hand on his lap. He flashes a reassuring smile.

I look at him, he's breathtakingly beautiful up-close. His blue grey eyes shine when he smiles, his deep pink lips stand out against his olive skin, he has a strong jawline, dimpled chin and cheekbones you could cut yourself on. _Somebody pinch me, I must be dreaming!_ He looks at me, that slightly nervous look reappears, he starts chewing the inside of his cheek again.

After what seems like an age he speaks again, his voice as soft as velvet. “I noticed you in here a few times. You're the only person I've seen who doesn't seem bothered by me being... different.” His voice trails off slightly, as he looks down at his left hand. He falls silent running his right hand through his hair, looking at me expectantly.

_For gods sake don't say anything stupid! But do say something!_

“There's nothing wrong with being different, it's the different people that you meet that you remember, not the ones that are all the same.” I hear myself say. _Oh well done! That was stupid!_ I smile nervously, hoping I haven't blown it.

“Glad to hear it, I like that attitude,” he falls silent again, as if distracted. “I must admit I haven't spoken to a beautiful dame in I don't know how long,” he pauses again. “Seems like decades,” he smiles briefly, before he runs the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, then bites his bottom lip gently before letting it go. He still looks nervous.

“Phrasing it like that I can believe it's been decades! You sound like something out of a second world war film.” I laugh nervously. _Oh you did not just say that! Get a grip! He's come over to talk and you're gonna scare him off saying stupid things like that. He's obviously as nervous as you are, if the lip biting is anything to go by, your dumb remarks won't help matters._ I glance down briefly, trying to prevent myself from blushing even more than I already am.

He doesn't react at first, then a smile spreads slowly across his face. “Yeah, I guess I do kinda sound like that,” he sighs gently.

“Sorry, that probably sounded rude,” I say, wringing my hands together.

“No, no, that's fair, I guess it does sound old fashioned,” he says dropping his head, letting his hair fall into his face, before looking back up with at me through his hair with puppy dog eyes. Then he pushes his hair out of his face with his hand and flashes me a brilliant smile.

I giggle quietly and smile at him, feeling the blushing subsiding as I continue talking to this unusual but charming man. I take a sip of my coffee as I start to relax. I find myself mirroring his gestures, as I push my hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear.

“I guess I should introduce myself, my name is James, but everyone calls me Bucky.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has seen the English girl in the coffee shop several times now. Today he's put in a bit of effort and is hoping he doesn't miss her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally a one shot, but a few people have read it and I got asked to carry it on. Well those of you who asked got your wish (if you didn't ask for it, you got it anyway, consider it a gift). This time it's a little different, the story does continue, but this is from Bucky's POV. 
> 
> It may be even more fluffy than the first chapter.
> 
> As always spelling and use of language is in line with British use of English, as I am English, however I try to make anything an American character says sound authentic. I have my lovely American editor to thank for all the help, not just for corrections to my grammar and punctuation, but also the dialogue.

It was mid morning and Bucky found the little neighborhood coffee shop quiet, just as he liked it. Having the pick of the seating, he walked to the comfortable seating area near the door Sitting down on the sofa against the wall he could watch the room. _Perfectly normal thing to do, sit so you get the best view of the room. Minimise the chance of someone sneaking up on you._ That hasn't changed, only it's debatable whether it's for his protection or the poor soul who startles him. He places his coffee and pastry on the table in front of him.

He'd deliberately got his workout over with early today, before hurrying home, showering and dressing in a pair of jeans and a casual shirt. He'd even bothered to shave and spent an unusually long time fussing over his hair, toying with the idea of tying his hair back, but ending up leaving it down. _She seems to like my hair down, if the way she reacts is anything to go by._

Bucky was pleased he found the courage to go up to the beautiful lady whom he had noticed watching him. He wasn't sure how it would go, but a few weeks had passed since he first spoke to her. Since then they'd bumped into each other several times and chatted nearly every time. Bucky found himself looking forward to seeing her and was disappointed if he didn't. Hopefully he was in early enough today and, for a change, not still in his gym gear.

 _Pull yourself together, it's not like you arranged to meet her at a particular time_ . He thought _, even so it'd be a shame to get there too late to see her. Particularly after putting in some effort to not look like a homeless person._ He smiles, running his hand over his face for the umpteenth time checking he hadn't missed a bit when shaving.

It had been decades since he'd spent time in the company of a woman and he found himself wondering how much dating had changed since he was a young man all those years ago.  He guessed he was still a youngish man, physically at least, but was aware of the fact that he was nearing his hundredth birthday. (And how exactly would you tell someone about that without sounding like a crazy person?)

He couldn't really ask anyone about modern dating. Steve was in the same situation as he was, perhaps with a little more experience of modern etiquette than he had, but given Steve's track record he couldn't see him being much help. He could speak to Sam, but he could imagine the mocking that would go on and asking Natasha just seemed plain wrong.

But this English woman was quite something: kind, gentle, open minded and she'd seen his metal hand and hadn't batted an eyelid about it. The thought of showing her, or anyone, the entire arm still made him feel uncomfortable.

But he was now comfortable enough leaving his glove off and wearing a long sleeve. When he was out in public he used the metal hand in a similar way to the most advanced artificial hands he'd seen, deliberately making it's movements very stiff and robotic.

He had been pleased to discover she didn't mind people being different. _Maybe she'll be ok with a nonagenarian with the body of a thirty something and a metal arm? Maybe I could open up to her? Maybe I could show her the arm and she'd be ok about it._ He thought. _No Barnes, don't be stupid, she's open minded, but she doesn't want to see this freak show._ He glanced down at his left arm, holding up his hand and slowly flexing it through it's full range of movement. There were times when he hated his metal arm.

Bucky was pulled from his thoughts by a now familiar voice with an unmistakable English accent, “May I join you, James?”

He quickly lowered his metal hand, wondering if she'd seen what he was doing. He'd been so careful to ensure that nobody suspected his metal hand was anything other than a regular artificial limb, only to slip up when his mind wandered. _What if someone saw it, if she saw it? If they put two and two together and figured he's the Winter Soldier? Not everyone was willing to forgive him. Do something Barnes, ensure her focus doesn't settle in the metal hand._

He broke out in a huge smile. “Sure, let me  pull out a chair for you my Ma would be mad at me for my forgetting my manners,” he said standing up as she placed her coffee on the table. He wasn't sure if people still pulled chairs out for a lady, or even if you'd pull a comfy chair out at all. But he felt he needed to do something to ensure that if she's seen him flexing his hand that she was too distracted to return to the subject.

“That's very sweet of you, but there really is no need. I thought I might… Err… sit on the sofa.” she said, her cheeks flushing slightly pink.

“Oh, right. Do you want me to move?” He said biting his the inside of his cheek nervously, then pushing his hair back, tucking it behind his ear.

“I thought I might...err... I'd sit next to you….umm, for a change.” She said, her voice small and unsure, the intensity of the pink on her cheeks increasing, before adding quickly, “If you don't mind that is?”

“No, no, not at all!” Bucky heard himself say, feeling his cheeks starting to burn also. He looked down to his metal hand. “But would you mind sitting on my other side?”

“Of course, sorry James! I didn't take that into account, gosh I feel foolish now. Very inconsiderate of me. My mother would be horrified at my lack of consideration, I can almost hear her now,” she stopped suddenly dropping her head, her hair falling into her face, “I'm babbling, so sorry, I do that when I'm nervous.” she peered up from under her hair and Bucky could see that she'd gone ever redder.

“Hey, it's ok! No harm done, Doll.” Bucky reached out and touched her upper arm, squeezing gently hoping to reassure her.

She giggled slightly, “Still the old fashioned language. Bit of a history buff, James?” She teased.

“Kind of.” He smiled.

“What are you used to people saying?” Bucky asked, hoping to learn something.

“Well, I'm English and we have more terms of endearment than you can shake a stick at.”

“Not to mention more than a few unusual phrases,” Bucky replied, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

“Oh, like you wouldn't believe,” she said squeezing past Bucky's massive frame without touching him. Putting herself on his right side, then gesturing that they should sit down.”I lived all over Britain before I came here, but I'm most used to being called ‘Love’ or ‘Sweetheart’.”

Bucky liked ‘sweetheart’, it just seemed right, he had a vague recollection of that being used in England when he was shipped out during the war. “Do you mind me calling you sweetheart?” A smile teasing his lips.

“Not at all, it's better than being called ‘Duck’ like they do round Derby and Nottingham, that’s really irritating!”

“I can imagine, don't sound like the nicest thing to call a gal.”

She smiled and nodded, a comfortable silence falling between them. She rearranged the drinks on the table, moving his drink in front of him, before picking up her coffee and sipping it, then placing it back on the table. The redness on her cheeks fading as she seemed to relax a little.

Bucky shuffled slightly, aware of his current position. The small size of the two seat sofa meant he found himself sitting what he was sure used to be considered inappropriately close to her. But she hadn't moved away or said anything.

He wasn't certain, but observation suggested acceptable behaviour these days seemed to allow for more physical contact. Her knee pressed gently against his thigh, her shoulder brushed lightly against his bicep as she shifted her position, turning slightly to face him, smiling at him.

Bucky felt his heart racing and his mouth go dry. He nervously ran his tongue over his lips. Her gentle smile made his heart skip a beat. He could see her angle her head to a side. He really hoped he was he reading this right. After so long with no practice maybe he was wrong?

Ensuring his long hair was tucked behind his ear, he leant closer. The gap between them now was so small he could feel her breath on his cheek. He ducked his head slightly and leaned into her, his flesh hand cupping her cheek. Their lips brushed gently as the gap between them closed. The kiss was delicate and chaste, it lasted only a second or two before being broken.

They remained close though, forehead to forehead. Bucky's mind prepared him for her pulling away as well as the stinging sensation of a slap on the cheek, for stealing a kiss. She didn't move, just let out a soft sigh.

Even when she hadn't moved he could hear himself starting to pre-emptively apologise  “I'm sor…” is as far as he got before her hand came up to gently caress his cheek, before running her fingers through his hair and pulling him in for a second kiss. This one deeper than the first, their lips exploring each other, before parting and her tongue danced across his lips.

  
Bucky closed his eyes, allowing old yet familiar sensations to wash over him, he responded by delicately sucking on her bottom lip as the kiss became more intense. After what seemed like ages the kiss was finally broken. She sighed once more before uttering a slightly breathless, “Wow!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You can't just leave it there!" Yes, I can and I did. Don't hate me for it, I imagine that Bucky was a pretty amazing kisser back in the day and, despite being a bit rusty, probably still is. Where does one go after that? I haven't a clue (In all honesty I'm still busy imagining what it'd be like to kiss Bucky), so there it ends. I've left you with her recovering from his kiss, what happens next, well that I'll leave to you imagination.
> 
> The English girl calls Bucky 'James'. Why? Well Bucky is an odd name, but it's possibly as sign that she likes him.

**Author's Note:**

> And if I ever figure it out how to do it, I'll post pics of Sebastian looking appropriately Bucky like for reference. But if you've seen photos of Sebastian in China promoting 'The Martian' or at SLCC 2015 then that's pretty much what I have in mind.
> 
> Please let me know what you think, I'm happy to hear any feedback or constructive criticism.
> 
> If you spot any errors that myself and my editor have missed let me know and I'll fix as soon as I can.


End file.
